One Wish
by Adrianna Dobhran
Summary: [ON HOLD] HotohorixMiaka AU. Four years after the legend ends, Miaka travels back to Konan in order to save Boushin's life. An unknown evil seeks the power of the Suzaku Seven, and it's the last chance for Hotohori's wish to come true.[Rating subject to c
1. Epilogue: Memories of a Garden

Disclaimer: I don't own FY, they all belong to Yu Watase!

Summary: (HotohorixMiaka) AU. Four years after the legend ends, Miaka travels back to Konan in order to save Boushin's life. An unknown evil seeks the power of the Suzaku Seven-- and it's the last chance for Hotohori's wish to come true.

A/N: I've been thinking about this plot line for quite a while, and after watching some FY episodes again I couldn't resist! This story will be on an 'alternate universe' time line...the OVA's have not happened. Miaka is under the impression that her duties as the Priestess are fulfilled, and she can never re-enter the book. (But Hotohori declares that this shall not be so...and no one dares argue with his almighty sparkles) Please read & review!

Dedication: For my sister, whose favorite sparkly bishie is Hotohori!

**One Wish**

By: Adrianna

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_The mirror melts _

_I'm somewhere else; inside eternity _

_Where you on outstretched wings, sing within _

_The Garden of Everything _

_Where memories call to me ..._

- The Garden of Everything, Maaya Sakamoto

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Epilogue: Memories of a Garden

_The last battle of Konan:_

A blue light.

It felt cold, unmerciful.

Hotohori greeted it with the blade of his sword.

For an instant, he was enveloped within crackling energy. Through the pain he heard Nakago's voice say almost wistfully: _Such a waste. I admire your bravery, leading your people into battle. Unfortunately, you shall die for your foolish display of honor..._

Hotohori felt his flesh weaken. His mind began to wander though misty pockets of his consciousness where he could hear someone calling out his name.

"Hotohori...!"

He smiled. He knew that voice. His gaze drifted towards the sky-- the heavens, and once again he found himself wishing he could reach for her soft fingers and kiss them one by one.

"Miaka..." he breathed, knowing that although his life force was draining from his broken body, his spirit still responded to her call.

"Hotohori...you can't die! Promise me...!"

Her voice became entwined with the sound of birds singing...his vision became murky as a memory-- his last memory floated up from behind the mists.

They were in a garden, and a quiet beauty reached out with soft petals, lush foliage and rushing water.

Rocks lay scattered like white flecks against the emerald grass. Although they seemed to pepper the ground naturally they served a distinct purpose. Arranged around a large pond which was stocked to the brim with bright goldfish, they supplied the perfect place for someone to sit and enjoy the calming vista.

A waterfall sparkled, sheets of water cascading over a rocky precipice to join the pond below. The sound of gushing water soothed, while the throaty call of birds floated along a breeze that carried with it a hint of orange blossoms.

Miaka sighed deeply, as if she were drinking in her surroundings.

"If this garden had a taste...I think it would be sweet," she said on the wave of another delighted sigh.

Hotohori continued to smile softly at her profile.

"Like chocolate! When I go back to my world, I'll bring you back some chocolate..." Miaka said as she gazed dreamily into the pond, watching flashes of goldfish flit to the surface of the water and then dart away again.

Reaching out her finger, she rested it just on the water's surface and waited. Giggling as a goldfish boldly nibbled her finger, she smiled at her companion.

"I think they're still hungry!" she said as Hotohori gave her another piece of seaweed to feed to the growing number of goldfish swirling around her fingertip. Hotohori felt his heart stir hopefully as their fingers brushed together. He cherished each time he was able to touch her, no matter how ordinary the task.

It revitalized him like a douse of healing water, her skin soft against his rough fingers which were calloused from hours of sword practice.

He watched her as she bent over the clear rippling water, grateful for this brief time in which he could bask in her warmth. Her face was tanned from riding for hours in the sun, but to him she shone with an iridescent glow.

She was his moon, and he would be forever in a distant pavilion built to shelter his hopes as he gazed upon her silver splendor.

Did one ever imagine that they could grasp the moon in their hands, like a precious jewel? He had thought such things were possible when he had been a child-- he would sit in the Pavilion of Light which had been built by his father and gaze at the moon for hours.

In his childish innocence, he had believed that someday when he was a man he would be able to capture the shimmering globe and give it to the Priestess as a token of his devotion.

Hotohori remembered as a child of ten kneeling in the pavilion, free from his restrictive robes and clad only in his father's tunic--which was so big on his lean frame that his mother had let him wear it instead of a more traditional night gown.

The moon had shone bright and full and Hotohori, young prince and Honored Son of the Emperor was breathing in the night air with euphoria.

He had seen her. Today, he had seen her.

It had only been a glimpse; a young girl of no more than seven at play, her chubby cheeks flushed with delight and her curly auburn hair bouncing around her head. Hotohori had felt his heart pound heavily within his chest as something unfamiliar yet provocative bloomed within his heart.

He did not know why or even how he would accomplish it, but he vowed then and there that someday he would kiss her.

He would kiss her, and offer her anything she desired, for she would rescue him from loneliness-- her smile, her bright green eyes...

The royal priest had then pressed a kind hand onto the young prince's shoulder. The young boy was suddenly thrust back to earth, and he resisted the urge to cry out in protest as the little girl's image faded within the glass and the mirror returned to its smooth, black visage.

The priest, who had allowed the future Seishi to see a glimpse of the Priestess that was to be Konan's savior, regarded the prince kindly.

"_My prince, now that you have seen she who is to become the Most Honored Priestess, let her presence linger in your heart so you may recognize her when she is plucked from the heavens and descends to us..."_

Hotohori remembered.

For eight years he guarded the image of the priestess's green eyes-- as clear and pure as jade-- within his heart. She kept him warm at night.

He wondered what she had been so happy about...had there been someone else there with her too? Somewhere deep within his most hidden thoughts he felt the first needles of jealousy. He was becoming a man, and as he grew the image of the priestess brought him comfort and joy--and a longing need to be with her.

The urge to see her standing before him, real and vibrant seared his dreams. He wondered what kind of girl she had grown into. Was she still as carefree as she had been when he'd seen her as a child at play? Was her mouth now speaking words of blossoming maturity, of awareness?

Did she realize her duty as the priestess...?

Was she frightened at the thought of leaving heaven?

Hotohori had spent many nights lying sleeplessly, willing his voice to reach her across the shady ethers. He offered her words of encouragement and courage.

Whatever strength he gathered from his training with sword and lance, bow and spear he transferred to his priestess.

She visited him often in dreams. Her face was not formed within his mind, but her eyes -- the one feature he knew would not be touched by the effects of time were round and vibrant.

He reached out to her in his dreams, his need growing stronger as each season passed. His father passed away in his twelfth year; he was now the Emperor of Konan.

A Son of Heaven.

Yet being the Son of Heaven brought him no joy. He would have rather had the warmth of his father's arms than the heavy crown which veiled his face from the world. His mother, heart broken that her Emperor had passed into heaven without her soon followed.

His family was gone; he was alone at thirteen years old.

He was surrounded by advisors, ministers and attendants. Their prostrations, fear and reverence made it impossible for him to feel as though he was loved by a family.

He was forbidden to leave the inner palace. Until he turned eighteen, he could not go out into the country and see his people.

Caged birds, fluttering in their gilded palaces were his companions-- horses and dogs that lived within the Imperial pavilions of the inner palace were his first friends.

Still, he did not give into sorrow. He had dreams of the priestess, dreams where she would embrace him and tell him how happy his parents were in heaven. Perhaps she would even know them. It was like reaching for mist, yet he clung to the hope that she would arrive soon.

It had been his mantra. His solace.

Hotohori gazed at Miaka, the cloud of memories breaking apart as the words he had spoken so many times flooded back to him.

"I shall touch the light in your eyes...and know heaven..." he whispered reverently, over come by the memories of his youth. Memories that were so entangled with the young girl who now sat beside him.

Yet she had no inkling as to how much she had influenced his life. To her, they had first met in the court yard, by the temple of Suzaku. In truth, he had known her nearly all his life.

He remembered the way he had felt his heart soar as he had gazed into her green eyes-- and realized that although time had changed her face she was still the child he had seen in the Holy Mirror-- a relic of the great creator, Taiitsukun.

"That was beautiful..."

Hotohori felt his cheeks flush with heat. Suddenly, Miaka was sitting up and gazing at him intently. His expression must have conveyed his confusion, because she smiled and lifted her finger to point at her own eyes. Hotohori felt a swell of longing-- how he loved her charming gestures!

"What you just said...about the 'light in your eyes'...is it poetry?" her curious nature stirred once more the urge to draw closer to her, but he remained still.

"I would call it a song... a song which is never ending," Hotohori answered quietly, a small smile curving his lips as he saw her furrow with more questions.

Before she could ask them, Hotohori reached into his belt and withdrew a small package wrapped in yellow satin. His cheeks were stained with crimson as he offered the bundle to her wordlessly.

"Hotohori--!"

Hearing her delighted cry, he overcame his embarrassment enough to smile as she grasped the bundle and admired it.

Her fingers smoothed over the daffodil yellow satin which was tied up with a mauve ribbon.

Hotohori watched her caress the fabric longingly. If only he were to feel her soft skin...

"Hotohori... _arigatou_, thank you...!" she exclaimed as she pulled off the ribbon-- and pulled him from delving too deeply into his ardent thoughts. The package lay open in her lap, and Hotohori watched her face keenly as his heart thumped heavily within his chest.

Miaka gazed at the tiny object nestled within the folds of satin. It was a delicate necklace-- tiny jade beads of varying shades sparkling in the sunlight. At the center was a round, polished white stone that glowed like an opal.

Taking it carefully from her lap, Miaka felt tears catch the 'thank you' that floated up from her heart. She swallowed, overcome with the delicate beauty of it. Hotohori felt worried after a moment, when she still said nothing.

He had made the necklace when he'd been sixteen; collecting the pieces of jade from his mother's beaded hair pins and linking them together.

Then he had sought out the roundest, smoothest stone he could find from his favorite retreat-- the pond where they now sat.

Polishing it until it shone even in the darkest light, he hoped that the priestess would like it. Perhaps it would remind her of heaven, just as it reminded him of his promise to pick the moon from the sky and offer it to her as a jewel.

"Forgive me if I was too forward..." Hotohori offered tentatively, unsure as to why she was still so silent. It wasn't like her at all...

"I meant it as a gift of friendship..."

_I love you..._

"...and I do not wish you to feel obligated..."

_Let me love you forever..._

"...I have been waiting to give it to you," he finished softly, suddenly aware that Miaka was now very close. Her lips were parted, and her eyes encompassed his vision-- she was crying? Horrified that his gift had caused her sorrow he opened his mouth, whether to apologize or to confess his true motives he didn't know.

_Be my wife...as I have always wished..._

He could see tears clustered on her dark eyelashes, and her breaths were shallow as she tried to contain them. Without a word, she tilted her face upwards. The garden, the rushing water...the world was blotted out as a single sensation permeated his consciousness.

Her soft lips kissing his cheek.

Hotohori's limbs stiffened as the feel of her mouth pressed against his skin-- his cheeks flushing with pleasure.

He felt as though ruling a kingdom was possible. The priestess was his savior as well.

"Hotohori...!"

He was being drawn back into his broken body, the memory still vivid within his mind.

Hotohori smiled, the warmth from her lips warming his cheek once more. The memory did not fade. He would die with the feel of her mouth against his skin.

As his body was being drawn back into the earth, so his soul was quickly ascending into the sky, up higher and higher in search of her voice.

"Hotohori...you can't die, promise me you won't--!"

"We will meet again. Beyond time, beyond worlds...beyond death. The moon is forever guiding me...and I shall follow you where ever you go."

Miaka's tears stained the pages of _The Universe of The Fours Gods_, the drops falling like pearls from the sky.

The Emperor was dead.

Hotohori was free.

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_I lie on the ground and gaze up at the heavens, feeling like I had been sleeping_

_The stars are in the heavens, and the flowers bloom on Earth  
And you are in my world…_

- Boku no Uchuu ni Kimi ga Iru  
("You Are In My World")

**TBC...**

A/N: More chapters to come... please R&R!


	2. The Holy Relic

Disclaimer: I don't own FY; everything is Yu Watase's. 

A/N: Thanks to Vegetas-mate2 and Lilly McFadden for your kind reviews! There will be much HotohorixMiaka in the next chapter, so I hope to get it posted soon. Please R&R!

One Wish

By: Adrianna

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Chapter Two: The Holy Relic

_Konan, four years after Suzaku was summoned: Year of the Phoenix_

Thunder shook the earth.

Rumbling across a black sky lightening forked brilliantly for an instant, illuminating a thin thread of men who raced on horseback across the wet ground.

Tall pine trees swayed with the force of the wet wind, and as the horsemen rode on towards the high mountain gate a bolt of lightening erupted with a crack just ahead of them. The horsemen skid to a halt as a tall tree broke apart from the blast and crashed to the ground. One of the riders turned back to his comrades, his head cloaked, the rain battering his face.

"Oi, Genrou! We have to find another way!"

"Shit!" cursed a second rider, who tried to control his horse as it reared, terrified by the noise of the fallen tree. Reining the animal hard as it stumbled to gain its footing the rider pushed back his hood, allowing the rain to drench his already wet red hair.

"Take the others back and find another way in. I'll keep goin'!"

"Genrou--!"

"That's an order, Kouji!" Genrou yelled out over the howling wind, turning his horse so that the animal's hooves kicked up mud and water. Kouji opened his mouth to protest his boss's recklessness, but as another crack of lightening echoed in the cold air he realized he was too late; Genrou was already racing away towards the mountain gate.

Spurring his horse back to the others, Kouji hoped his friend knew what the hell he was getting into. "We have our orders!" he called out to the other riders.

"We'll take the northern path-- move out!" As the sound of his men's horses racing back the way they'd come was swallowed up by the roaring winds, Genrou pushed ahead. His horse grunted with exertion, the animal's neck slathered in sweat.

Giving a cry of encouragement, Genrou tried to see past the rain which obscured his vision, making the path ahead swim before his eyes. The fallen tree was just up ahead.

Spurring the horse on relentlessly, Genrou felt the beast's ki gather with increasing speed as it leapt from the ground and soared over the broken trunk. For a moment they were airborne as the horse stretched out its front legs, bracing itself for the impact of the ground once more. Just as the animal's hooves hit the wet earth, Genrou felt something sharp slice past his cheek.

"Damnit! Kutou's soldiers are already here!" Genrou thought as he guided his horse faster towards the mountain gate. Arrows hissed as they shot past his head, missing his flesh by inches.

Suddenly, he heard a great groaning, as if the earth itself were moving. His horse skid to a halt as an arrow sliced through its knee. Crying out shrilly, the animal collapsed in the mud, crushing its rider beneath it. Genrou cried out as he felt his leg being crushed under the weight of the animal.

Unsheathing his sword he cut himself free, pulling his leg out from beneath the writhing horse. "Tama!" Genrou yelled, trying to grab the horse's head so he could help the beast to its feet. Panic filled him as he saw the horse try valiantly to rise for his master, but stumble. "Tama! We've been through too much together! Get up! Just this last time! Get _up_!"

The horse grunted with pain, struggling hard. Genrou's eyes widened with horror as he saw that the animal's leg was completely shattered. Closing his eyes against the wet rain and mingled tears of pain for his companion, Genrou lifted the sword and swiftly brought it down into the animal's chest. The horse grunted once, and then slowly let its head slip back to the muddy ground.

Genrou bent his head over his fallen horse, a rough sob escaping his throat. Reaching out dirt stained hand he gently stroked the horse's wet neck. As his palm rested on the slacken muscle, he felt a strong vibration radiate up through the horses skin.

"Tama...?" Genrou exclaimed, feeling the vibrations suddenly become stronger. The ground was shaking again, and this time the groans which rose up from the earth turned into snarling growls.

Wrenching his sword free from his dead companion, Genrou nearly stumbled backwards as suddenly an enormous shadow rose up not ten feet from him.

Genrou held his sword tightly, his knuckles white as he pointed the blade at the shadow who was quickly generating limbs and a head.

"Suzaku Seishi Tasuki..." a voice growled, sounding more like an animal than a human.

Genrou gripped his sword tightly, trying to keep from losing his balance as the earth shook beneath his feet.

"I dunno who the fuck you think you are," he yelled, his throat sore but his teeth clenched in rage. "But you'll pay for killing my horse!"

The voice hissed in something that sounded almost like laughter. "Such defiance! No matter. You will never reach the Emperor's tomb. I shall enjoy killing you, Seishi of Suzaku!"

"Peh! I've cut up bigger men than you in my sleep!" Genrou spat, standing his ground as the shadow moved closer, its speed fast for something so large.

A bolt of lightening shot through the sky, and in an instant, Genrou saw what he was facing. A long, black body stretched up towards the sky at least five heads taller than he was.

A sleek black muzzle with wet nostrils came into view, sniffing the air hungrily. The creatures black lips curled back in a snarl, revealing long razor sharp teeth.

"But...as you can see Seishi Tasuki...I am not a man."

Genrou steeled himself against the grotesque creature that loomed above him, thin strands of saliva streaming from its jaws. The creature leaned closer, its head that of a giant wolf, its body that of a man with unnaturally long limbs which were thick with muscle.

"Die...!" the monster hissed through its sharp teeth, his claw like hands reaching out.

Genrou gazed up at the creature, then to the sliver of light he could see behind it-- a light which signaled the entrance to a tomb, the tomb of the Emperor of Konan.

_"No matter what, you must retrieve his Highness's sword, no da! But what ever you do, you must not use your tessen!"_ Chichiri's voice echoed within Genrou's head, but as the creature advanced his claws glinting in the darkness Genrou plunged his sword into the earth, and reached behind his back.

_'Damn you...I will complete my mission!'_ he thought as his hand gripped the long metal hilt of the diamond fan.

Unsheathing it, the monster seemed to hesitate in its advance, his long legs causing mud to arc into the air as it slowed. The fan glimmered within its greedy black eyes as the bandit unsheathed it, the metal singing and leaving a menacing note vibrating in the air.

"The tessen...how reckless of you! Now the Emperor's sword and the tessen shall be mine..."

Genrou curled his lip, a red aura flickering to life around him. "You want Hotohori's sword? The sword he used to protect Konan and defeat the armies of Kutou? I won't let filth like you touch it!"

The aura burst into vibrant red flames, the fan glowing scarlet in the darkness, illuminating the ground around them. The creature's form became blazingly clear under the fan's red light, its enormous eyes reflecting its red glow.

"You always were the foolish one. Too blinded by your own pride to see what was right in front of you..."

"Enough!" Genrou exclaimed, rage causing his aura to fluctuate chaotically. The bright character on his forearm seared through his wet tunic. "It is too late, Suzaku Seishi. The Priestess will return, and I shall be waiting. The power of the Suzaku Seven shall be mine!"

Genrou raised the fan, its light licking against the black sky. "REKKA...!" The creature seemed to shudder, its form suddenly losing its shape.

"SHINEN!" Genrou cried, the words causing a torrent of red flames to erupt from the fan.

The sound of a thousand blazing fires blasted through the air, reducing everything in its path to cinders. Smoke filled the air when the flames dissipated, and through the fog Genrou saw that the creature was gone. Suddenly, a tiny flame burst to life in the darkness.

The flame became brighter, and quickly began to grow until Genrou was facing the same inferno he had just released. Heat scorched his skin as a torrent of flames came rushing back towards him.

"Shit!" Genrou swore as he threw himself out of the way, the heat searing his side and legs. With a hiss of pain, he hit the ground just the blinding red flames rushed past him.

"I thank you for this gift, Seishi Tasuki...my master will be most pleased!" Genrou bit back a grunt of pain as he reached for his tessen once more.

But it was gone.

With a howl of rage, the Seishi got to his feet, swaying as his burnt legs cried out in protest. His steps sent water cascading into the air as he ran towards the mountain gate, where the tomb of the Emperor lay.

"It's too late..."

"No! Damn you, give it back! Give it back and fight me!" Genrou cried in rage, his throat tearing with the force of his words.

"The diamond tessen.. and the Holy sword...they are both mine now. You should have listened to the monk...goodbye, Suzaku Seishi Tasuki..."

"No--!" Genrou burst through the entrance, his legs carrying him down the steps and into a dark chamber which held the former Emperors sword...the holy relic of Konan. Genrou's legs gave way beneath him, and he fell to his knees. This was not the first time he had done so within the Emperor's tomb, but it was the only time he had done so in utter fury.

The Emperor's sword was gone. Genrou's broken body swelled with fiery pain, and as the Seishi struggled for breath he thought he saw the Emperor's kind eyes hovering just above him.

"Forgive me, Hotohori-sama..." Genrou managed, just before his vision darkened and his consciousness spiraled into nothingness.

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It was not the sound of the alarm clock that woke her, but the gentle yet insistent pattering of rain on her bedroom window.

Slowly, the rhythmic sound drew her out of dreams and into consciousness. Her room was saturated with the kind of silvery grey light that always accompanies thunder storms. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she reached over and switched off the alarm clock noting that it was already seven o'clock in the morning.

Not wanting to give up her warm, soft bed she nuzzled further into the feather comforter and watched the rain stream down the window pane. She had always loved the rain.

In Konan, tucked away in the royal palace she had marveled at how the architects had built the windows so that one could fully appreciate the rain and its cleansing scent. Awnings jutted out from the wide, large casements causing a never ending trickle of water to delight the senses.

Long strands of bronze bells hung from the corners, creating different chimes as the rain struck them.

If she closed her eyes, she could still hear them.

They reminded her of someone in particular, someone who always seemed to proceed a dark rumbling sky. Perhaps she thought of him that way because the night he had kissed her it had been raining.

The thunderous pounding of drops against the walls had been soothing, as if they had been sent to protect them-- to keep everyone else from discovering their one moment of abandon.

She had asked him softly to kiss her.

His reply was something fierce and wild, crushing her naive hopes that afterwards they could simply be friends; his kiss was ferocious. It had frightened her, yet its intensity thrilled her beyond measure.

Unyielding.

His arms had enveloped her, crushing her against his body as he buried his face in her hair, murmuring three words over and over...

His body had trembled.

_'I love you. I love you...'_

The Priestess of Suzaku returned his embrace, overwhelmed once more by the yearning in his voice.

_'Will you allow this pathetic man to follow your foot steps? Forgive me, Miaka...'_

The telephone rang.

Her body jumped, the sound flickering her out of her memories and back into reality. Groping for the phone, she picked it up and noticed immediately that the caller ID read: Hongo, Yui.

"Ohayo, Yui-chan..." Miaka said sleepily into the receiver.

"Good morning to you too, sleepy head. You do realize it's past seven thirty, right?"

Yui, Priestess of Seiryuu grinned as she heard scuffling on the other end of the phone.

"Ooh, no! Yui, could you--"

"Pick you up? I'm already getting your toast ready," Yui answered, cradling the phone against her shoulder as she stuffed some juice boxes into her tote bag.

She gave a little jump as two warm arms suddenly wrapped around her waist, and a moist kiss was placed against her cheek. "Morning, Mi-chan!" Tetsuya called into the receiver, squeezing Yui within his arms.

Miaka, hearing Yui's bemused cry at Tetsuya's sudden appearance felt her heart constrict painfully; she felt lonely. Immediately she shook herself free of the dark clouds which loomed over her head, and called out to him in return.

"Tetsuya, will you be coming to the party tonight? Keisuke will be there...do you have to work?"

"Yeah, but I'll be there. Besides, you know how grumpy Yui gets if I don't take her out--Oow!"

Miaka giggled as she heard struggling, then Yui's voice calm and clear.

"He'll be there. He's been talking about the planetarium for months, so he won't want to miss this! It'll be beautiful: dancing, music...all under the stars!"

"Mm.." Miaka sighed in agreement. The new Tokyo planetarium was a project seven years in the making-- and tonight there was a private ball to honor its opening to the public.

"Is Mr. Yin going to be there, Mi-chan?" Yui asked, her voice tentative.

Miaka felt her cheeks flush. Mr. Yin was an elderly gentleman who had been brought into the hospital where she worked two weeks ago. As a medical intern, Miaka had been attending to the emergency doctor's commands as he called out instructions for her:

Blood pressure: Below normal.

Temperature: One-hundred and six.

Miaka had rushed to gather the instruments the doctor required, and as she bent over the old man to check his pupils, he had grasped her wrist gently.

"Don't worry about me, princess..." he'd managed, a small grin creasing the lines of his mouth.

"I can die happy...after seeing such a beautiful...face..."

The doctor couldn't help but grin admiringly.

"Just take it easy, Casanova. You've got a violent fever, and I don't want it to turn into phenomena."

The old man had given Miaka a little face. Miaka smiled, amazed that the man could be so boyish, so vibrant... even when he was clearly deathly ill.

"I'll be...fine as long as the young lady stays," he said stubbornly, his breathing slowing but net yet normal.

"I promise, Sir. Just lie back and relax. I'll be right here," Miaka said soothingly, slipping the IV under his skin and patting his hand gently.

The old man nodded, apparently to weak now to speak.

He lay back on the pillows, his rugged face easing into a more relaxed expression. Miaka felt her heart go out to the man, who looked so fragile. The strength of his features, which at one time would have been strikingly handsome were still attractive but...sad.

The wrinkles creasing his skin pulled downwards, as if he had spent most of his life frowning. Miaka found herself curious about this charismatic man.

She had kept her promise, and stayed with elderly man all night. When he awoke, his fever had dropped but his attitude was still cantankerous.

He would only let Miaka tend to him, and played tricks on the other nurses and doctors if they tried to work with him. He pretended to be asleep.

Or deaf.

Or senile. Sometimes both. Miaka felt a mixture of bemusement and frustration at his childishness, but in the end she always ended up sitting on the edge of his bed, listening to him talk. He knew lots of things. Things about history, business, philosophy, art...

He told her his name was Yin.

He liked singing.

He would sing in a language she could not understand; and when she directed her questions at the residing nurse she found out why.

"He's Chinese," the young nurse said as she fluffed up another patients pillow. The patient, who was an elderly lady pointed at the pillow again, clearly not satisfied with its puffiness.

Miaka grasped the medical chart in her hands, looking at it curiously. "Do you know if any family has been in to see him?" Miaka asked, hoping that he wasn't alone and that he had family that could provide him with support.

"No one," the nurse answered, looking saddened. "Its awful, the way some elderly people are abandoned. Or perhaps he lives alone here, and his family live in China."

Miaka decided she would ask him as soon as she could. She brought him candies, and each afternoon when she was finished her shift in the emergency ward she would slip up to the sixth floor where the geriatric ward was.

"Greetings, princess," Mr. Yin called out merrily, as if he had been waiting all day for this moment. Miaka held the candies behind her back.

"Ni hao ma, Mr. Yin?" she asked tentatively in practiced Chinese.

The old man's bright black eyes twinkled for a moment, before he replied.

"Hen hao, hen hao," Yin said with a wave of his hand. "I'm fine. As well as can be expected, being cooped up here. For one with my intellect, the worst fate possible is idleness."

Miaka smiled as she held out the candies, which were wrapped in blue foil.

Yin's face lit up instantly.

"Of course nothing stimulates the brain more than a little indulgence! Thank you, my dear, xie xie."

Miaka took her seat beside his bed. There were books which lay open across his bed spread and some tossed haphazardly on the empty arm chair by the window. Miaka's curiosity stirred; Yin was so meticulous, such a neat man.

"Just a distraction," Yin said as he munched on his candies, noting the way she was looking at the books. Miaka picked up the nearest one. It's title read: _"Taoism, and The Search For Immorality"._

"Are you Taoist, Mr. Yin?" Miaka asked curiously, a strange feeling urging her to be bold. Yin simply grinned.

"In a manner of speaking, I suppose I am. Forgive the mess," he said gesturing to all the books. "I had Jin bring some from the library. Just something to keep my mind from coagulating. At my age, you need to keep the mind sharp against the grain of time."

Miaka's heart lifted hopefully. "Is Jin your son?" she asked. Yin watched her bemusedly, then shook his graying head. His short, clipped beard was peppered with grey, but one could tell it had been very dark when he was younger.

"No, no. Jin is my attendant. He assists me in my research."

Miaka leaned forwards, her opening up the book about the Taoist quest for immortality. She remembered with vivid clarity the temples she had seen within Konan-- surely a man who was interested in Ancient China would find her experiences riveting. She wanted to share them with him, but what if he thought she was crazy?

"You're a professor, aren't you?" she asked softly. Yin grinned.

"Is it that obvious? Even without the bow tie, I suppose I am as subtle as a tortoise. Yes, I meander through the ancient histories of this world, hoping to shed some light on the questions which have intrigued me for what seems like ages..."

"And you study ancient China?" Miaka prompted, interest glimmering within her emerald eyes.  
Yin nodded, taking the book from her hands and opening it and reading aloud with a deep, resonant voice.

'Be one with the ocean; for it carries the waves of light and understanding. This world is but an illusion; grasp the threads of nature and awareness. Give back all that you fear to lose; and in the nectar of truth you shall find eternity...'

Miaka felt her heart skip. She knew those words...somehow, they echoed within her mind. But she had not heard them in her own world. A distant memory, like a shadow flitting in and out of existence filled her mind. She was in the temple of Suzaku.

A voice was reading the ancient texts to her-- she had been so afraid that she would not have the knowledge to perform the summoning ceremony. A man sat beside her, guiding her through the jumble of unfamiliar words and clarifying her feverish questions.

_"You will be magnificent. You have already captured the heart of the people. Let their strength guide you..."_

Hotohori.

"You miss him, don't you?" Yin asked quietly, drawing Miaka back from her memories. The question should havesurprised-- or embarrassed her. But instead she found herself meeting Yin's steady gaze and nodding.

"Was he your husband?" Yin queried, a strange expression on his face.

"A friend. A very dear friend," Miaka said softly.

"I see."

Yin took her hand in his wrinkled, calloused ones.

"Don't give up hope, princess. Trust in the ancient ways. They will always bring back what you love enough to set free..."

Miaka smiled at the memory of his words.

"Yes, Mr. Yin will be there. I've promised him a dance," Miaka said to Yui, clutching the phone tightly in her hand. The past few weeks in which Yin had entered her life had been lovely.

She cared very much for the old curmudgeon, and had been delighted when he'd extended invitations to herself and her friends. It was because Mr. Yin was a respected professor at the University of Tokyo that he had been invited to the planetarium's opening extravaganza.

Yui laughed fondly. "He sounds like such a sweet man. Eccentric, and slightly odd, but sweet."

"He is..." Miaka said, watching the rain begin to teem as it lashed the window pane.

Yui paused, her tote bag packed and her shoes half on her feet as she reached for her car keys. It pained her to hear the note of sadness in Miaka's voice.

It was exactly two months now since Miaka had received word of her father's illness.

They had never been close, and Yui knew that it had been devastating to learn that before he'd died he had asked his step-son to wait to tell Miaka until it was all over. Miaka didn't even know where the funeral had been held.

"Yui...?"

"Yeah?" Yui answered gently, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, and Yui thought she heard the sound of sheets rustling.

"Wanna come over and stay in bed all day? We can watch movies. I have Pride & Prejudice. And chocolate."

Yui smiled. There was the Miaka she knew. The child-like brashness. The need to indulge in romance and food-- not necessarily in that order.

"You're already getting the Kleenex, aren't you?" Yui laughed, knowing that they would both need tissues by the end of the movie, where Mr. D'arcy and Miss Elizabeth kiss sweetly.

"...Maybe...!" Miaka's reply came, slyly.

"Alright. I'll bring my dress, and tell Tetsuya to pick my up at your place before the party. And I'll do your hair, because I'm scared that one of these days you're going to set it on fire with that flat iron."

Yui heard a bouncy giggle from the other end of the phone.

"Okay! I'll call Doctor Takane and tell him I can't make my appointment. Come soon, ne Yui-chan?

Yui smiled as she said she would, and then hung up the receiver.

'_Miaka...'_ she thought as she gave Tetsuya a good bye kiss and trotted out the door.

_'I'm worried about you. You try so hard to be strong. But it's been far too long since you've talked about your dad, or Taka...'_

The elevator doors snapped shut, and Yui descended to the ground floor lost in her thoughts.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Miaka was in the shower, washing away her doziness when she heard the phone ring. Turning off the taps, she yelped as she slipped on the slick tiles. Flying out the door of her bathroom, she picked up the phone just before her answering machine kicked in.

"Moshi mosh--"

"Princess?"

Miaka paused.

"Mr. Yin?" she asked, incredulous. How had he gotten her phone number...?

"Forgive the intrusion, dear. I know this is your day off, but I simply had to give you a little hint. You remember the puzzle I gave you last time we met for tea?"

Miaka's mind, soaked in the foggy steam from her shower snapped to attention immediately.

"Hai, I do. I've been thinking about it all week: _It is made of dreams, of wise men's words; an unspoken charm that is not of this world. It's spine is old, an ancient proverb; yet cherish it well and the truth shall be heard_."

Mr. Yin chuckled.

"That's the one. I just wanted to let you know that I'll be giving you until tonight to figure out what it is. I'll be revealing the answer to you tonight, so be ready. Oh, and princess?"

Miaka smiled, his nickname for her filling an aching void that had been locked in her chest since her father's death.

"Hai?"

"Wear something warm. I think it may get a bit chilly tonight. That's your hint."

Miaka paused; it was the middle of August. Before she could question his odd statement, he'd hung up.

Bemused, Miaka wandered back into the bathroom to continue her shower.

'What a strange man. But a kind one. I wonder if he has any children...'

Miaka lathered up her hair, wondering all the while about the enigmatic Mr. Yin, who seemed so familiar yet so puzzling.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jin stood before his master, who had just hung up the telephone.

"Everything is prepared, Honored One. The Priestess shall return tonight."

Yin gazed out the window of his library, his dark eyes searching the heavens.

"Remember, we cannot interfere. It must be her choice. She must be open to us."

Jin bowed his head lower to the ground, his knelt frame prostrated on the floor in reverence.

"Do you believe she will be, Honored One?"

Yin smiled.

"We must pray, Jin. With the stars of heaven scattered, she is our only hope."

"But what of your visions, master?" Jin coaxed, daring to glance up at the formidable figure standing by the window, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Let us hope that they will prove true in time. The Emperor's fate has come full circle."

Jin's eyes widened.

"You mean--" he began.

"Yes. The jade warrior will return to Konan. The Emperor will rise again."

Jin brushed his forehead to the floor once more, his master's words echoing in his ears.

He will rise once more...

So it was true-- the secret to immortality would soon be revealed.

Jin trembled with fear.

_It was hardly empty talk when the ancients declared 'In yielding contemplation'  
Once you prefect contemplation you've returned home to it all._

-Tao Te Ching

**TBC...!**

A/N: More HotohorixMiaka-ness coming soon!

...And now for your entertainment...

**One Wish: Blooper Reel!**

(Please skip to the next chapter if this silliness in any way detracts from the dramatic effect of Hotohori and Miaka's shining passion...!)

Yui: Miaka-chan? You do know it's after seven, right?  
Miaka: Aaaah-haaaah...? -Is still day dreaming about Hotohori's kiss-  
Yui: -Gasp!- She's been Hoto-fied! Miaka... don't look into the sparkles! Come back from the light!  
Miaka: Hoto-chaaaan...-Drool-  
Yui: -Flails- We've lost her...!

----------------------------------------

Yin: Did you love him?  
Miaka: ... -Feels something poke her from under the bed-  
Hotohori: -In a Miaka-like imitation- Why, yes! The magnificent Emperor of Konan is my one true love! His eyes create within me a flaming passion! His hair like silk-  
Miaka&Yin: -Flail- ...GHOST!  
Tamahome: -Punches Tasuki, who flies through the roof-

Tasuki: WAAAAAA-HAAAAH...-Echo-  
Nuriko: Tama. You really need to deal with your childhood issues!  
Chichiri: Something isn't right with this 'Yin' fellow, no da!  
Yin: -Flicks Chichiri's Mohawk- _I'm_ strange?  
Chichiri: Stop that, no da.  
Yin: -Flick-  
Chichiri: ...KAAA...! -Builds a crackling energy blast...-

---Insert Dragon Ball Z Theme Here!----

...Until next time! Sorry for my rambles, but I couldn't resist...


End file.
